Young Writers Society

Heehee! Here's the second chapter. Remember **** when changing perspective. Except at the flashbacks.

The sun was creeping over the clouds, shining down on the village. The beams of light sneaked through Kalaban’s small window and stretched over to his sleeping form. When his eyes opened, he groaned, rolled over onto his side and sighed deeply. The roast meat he ate the night before certainly didn’t agree with him and his stomach appeared to be very upset. He moaned in disgust..

The young man sluggishly sat up and yawned loudly. The scar on his arm ached as he stretched and the memories of that horrible day came rushing back to him.

***Flashback***

It was that adverse night 13 years ago. Back then, 4 year old Kalaban had never seen an open blaze before. A foolish stable boy had been smoking a pipe and had been called to help in the fields with the summer harvest. He had stupidly dropped the pipe in the hay barn, which was of course, next to Kalabans house. The small flicker of fire had quickly grown to a gigantic swirl of orange, red and yellow. The flames licked at the house, thriving and hissing. The boy’s home soon became engulfed with smoke and flame. Kalaban awoke from his slumber and coughed as the horrible grey shadow slipped down his throat. He tousled out of his bed and slumped down to the floor and began crawling out of his room. He heard his mother’s screams cleave through the air.

“Mummy!” Kalaban screamed as he stood up.

“Argh! Someone, help…please!!” his mum pleaded.

He edged closer to his mothers room, being careful not to be licked at by the flames. He coughed once more as more smoke entered his mouth. He doubled over and moved at a snails pace as he followed the endless shrieks.

As he approached his parent’s chambers, the fire became more petrifying. It stuck to the walls and floor like glue, brushing anything that passed, setting it alight.

Kalaban sputtered an gagged again. His eyes became waterfalls, pouring out what little moisture he had left. His skin was a mass of black and red. His legs had been seared with flames and were stinging like a thousand bee stings. Kalaban gasped as he touched the fleshy skin on his left arm. There was a deep gash upon his upper arm which was oozing fresh blood freely. He whimpered in pain but quickly wiped his tears and kept going.

When he reached the door, he gently touched it’s surface.

“OWWWW!” he yelled.

There was definitely fire on the other side.

“Mother…” Kalaban whispered to himself, as a lone tear dripped down his cheek.

He took a deep breath, held it and barged through.

Barging through was something Kalaban wished he had never done. The swirling torment of fire scorched at his legs and lashed at his arms causing him to scream and wince in pain. In amongst the orange and red blaze, Kalaban could see a hazey figure at the corner of the room. It was writhing and squirming, trying to escape the fire.

“Mother!!!!” the young boy howled.

“Help me, please…help…ahh!” his mum screeched.

Kalaban elfin ears heard a faint banging approaching the room. Was the house collapsing? Was this the end? He thought sadly.

“Kalaban!!” a voice shrieked. Another loud bang. “Lilly!!”

The brown haired child called out in reply to the voice.

“ Help us, please!” he rasped. The smoke was tearing his lungs apart and he was growing faint. Kalaban threw himself to the floor and stayed low in an attempt to escape the lick of the smoke and flames.

“Please…help…pl…plea…please,” his mother called again. Her voice was getting quieter and she was coughing and gasping.

A dark figure entered the flame, engulfed room and ran over to the stooping Kalaban.

“Kalaban!” the person asked, “Kalaban!” it asked again.

The young boy looked up slowly and stared into the eyes of his father.

“Fath…father!” he coughed.

The man picked up his son and ran from the room.

“NOOO! MOTHER!!!” he shouted. The screams of his mother were no longer to be heard. Just the screams of the fire slashed through the night.

Kalaban’s father held his son close as he ran from the house. The young boy was gasping and hyperventilating, trying to take in the air. His dad sat him down on the ground, being careful not to touch his son’s burns. Kalabans savoir ran away, crying ad screaming his wife’s name. That was the last time he saw his father.

The young boy sat staring at the ground, trying to take in the terrifying event. His body was a mess. Black, bloody and bruised. The gash on his arm was very deep. It was swollen and was oozing a horrid white substance along with plenty of blood. He whimpered as he prodded his parched legs, which were also a bloody mass of burns and scorches.

Then the truth hit him! His mother…she was..dead!

Kalabans eyes welled up with tears. He screamed, the tears falling down his face.

He was alone.

***End Flashback***

A single tear fell to the ground. Kalaban still had vague memories of the terrible event that took both his parents. He had no-one to hold, to cherish or to call mother or father. He had always been alone.

The thoughts disappeared from his head as his stomach moaned again. He grumbled and slipped on his faded tunic, his leggings and his old riding boots and went outside.

The sun was blazing and Kalaban was sweating in seconds. The village was busy, with people working and children playing.

As Kalaban glimpsed around the village, he saw the girl who had came back with the tribesmen the night before. She was helping an old woman make cloth. Her hair was tied back in a red ribbon and her eyes sparkled with interest. Her hands worked at a high speed, winding the thread around her hands and tying it in a knot.

Kalaban strutted forward, attempting to look smart and elegant. He was strangely attracted to the girl. Perhaps it is her hair? He thought. Or maybe it’s her beauty? he considered. Whatever it was, he knew he was oddly entranced.

***************************************

Sadine glanced up and noticed the arrogant tribes leader waltzing towards her. He looked so silly, all puffed up and red-faced.

“Hmmm…might I ask what you’re trying to do?” she inquired rudely.

Kalaban stopped and glared at the girl.

“Why should you care?” he stormed.

“I was only asking!” she shouted.

He simply huffed and marched away.

****************

Kalaban walked to a field and looked over at his mount. His horse was quietly munching at the crisp grass. The beast was getting old, old for a horse anyway. His once strong, able legs were now spindly sticks, only just capable of holding him up.

Kalaban swung over the fence and slowly walked over to his horse. The animal looked up and whinnied as he approached. The young man patted it, looped his arms around its neck and gave it a tight embrace.

“You’ve had enough haven’t you, old friend,” sighed Kalaban.

The animal snorted and nussled at his hand.

He sadly patted the horse again and walked back to the village.

Hope you like it. Comments anyone?

~Lollipop~